


Bandit's ColeKrem Tumblr prompts

by DragonBandit



Series: Bandit's Tumblr Prompt Collection [2]
Category: Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: F/M, M/M, The F/M is because sometimes Cole is a transgirl, There is no cis!Krem
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-02-19
Updated: 2017-05-13
Packaged: 2018-05-21 16:08:37
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 5
Words: 6,381
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6057667
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DragonBandit/pseuds/DragonBandit
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A collection of things that were originally on my tumblr for the pairing Cole/Krem.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Disconnected Drabbles

_“I’m Cole. I’m new. You can’t usually see me.”_

The tavern has sort of become the chargers go to after long missions out in the wilderness. Makes sense; it’s warm, filled with booze and no one minds with the place gets  little wrecked because most of skyhold is falling around people’s ears anyways.

Most people end up scarpering from the tavern when a large enough group of chargers comes through the door anyways. Thanks to the fact that they’re loud, rowdy, and have a tendency to break into fights at the drop of a glass.

Krem is sure that the kid hanging in the rafters is part of his band somewhere. Hey, it’s gotten a lot harder to track new recruits since joining the Inquisition. What with all the people milling about the place and the Commander foisting off some of the more… difficult recruits to Krem to babysit.

Not that he minds. More chargers means more man power. And usually once Krem’s got them into shape the Commander’s happy enough to take them back into the main army. There aren’t many who can keep up with the chargers. Krem is sure that most of the rejects beg to be let back in after a few scouting sessions under Krem’s (Or the Chief’s) command.

So. Tavern after a mission. Weird kid in the corner with an empty mug. Obviously a new charger recruit according to Krem’s drunken logic. Makes him under Krem’s command.

Means it’s totally reasonable for Krem to walk towards him, clap the kid on his back (hard) and ask if he wants a refill of whatever it is he’s drinking

The kid staggers forwards. Staring at Krem inscrutably from under the wide brim of the ridiculous hat he’s wearing.

“Happy. All fuzzy inside and warm. The mission got done and for once no one even got injured badly enough to visit the Stitches.”

Krem grins, “I know right, Chargers did good this time.”

“The chief will be pleased.” the kid responds.

“Yeah.” Krem nods in agreement. “Anyway, who are you. I’m not sure I’ve seen you around before.”

“I’m Cole. I’m new. You can’t usually see me.”

Krem is drunk enough that he sees nothing wrong with what the kid just said. “I’m–”

“Krem. I’m to go to you if I need anything.” Cole says.

“Someone told you about me already?” Good, Krem thinks.

“There needs to be some person to be in charge while the Chief is running around with the Inquisitor.” Cole says, echoing the rest of Krem’s thought.

“Right you are. You’re pretty insightful for a new recruit.”

“I’m fighting back to back with the tallest man–no not a man, I’ve ever seen. And later he’s making me down the strongest ale I’ve ever tasted and saying I’m his right hand man now.”

Krem pauses, part of him realising that this conversation doesn’t feel much like one. “What?”

“There’s a fight going on down there,” Cole says, rapidly changing subjects faster than Krem can keep up with. “You should leave before they break something important.”

Krem frowns. He’s sure he’s missing something here but in the sudden lull of the conversation he can hear the yells of a fight breaking out, and the cracking of wood that signals that it’s one that’s getting quickly out of control.

Time to be the leader Krem always hates being.

Cole mumbles something next to Krem, but he’s already moved too far away to get any words out of whatever it is.

“See you later.” Krem says, as he looks back before heading down the stairs.

“Probably,” Cole says, rocking on his heels. He looks down, done with the conversation.

Krem gives him a final once over; weird kid. Must be an acquisition from the Commander, before he stomps down to stop Skinner upending a barrel of ale over Dalish’s head.

Cole looks down at his empty mug, “No, not hurt. Something different.” He mumbles to himself. “Too loud here. Too bright. Too hard to make sense of what’s here and not.”

* * *

 

Cole fumbles the sword given to him by a man who won’t remember where it went from this moment to the next. It’s a heavy thing, solid steel and made for killing. Nothing like the feel of the knife he carries on the inside of his sleeve, hidden out of sight and forgotten until it’s needed.

In front of him is a training dummy. Made out of straw and leather. Cole hefts the sword up awkwardly. Not something he wants to use. Too raw, too real, too bright even when it’s just a practice sword as this one is. Dull at the edges to stop idiots from losing important body parts.

He frowns at the training dummy anyway, and takes an unpracticed slash at it. The motion of it sends him spinning, and he doesn’t even nick the target he was aiming for. Who knew that Swords were so different to knives?

There’s a laugh to Cole’s left. The charger, second in command. Krem. Wandering around Skyhold to check up on his group.

He can see Cole then. Must be since Cole can feel Krem is staring directly at him. Weird.

“I’m not a farm boy,” Cole protests as he levels the sword to take another go at the dummy.

“You’re not a soldier either,” Krem says after Cole misses the dummy again. There’s a hesitance to his talking that indicates that Cole’s said or done something wrong. He always does, one way or another. “They let you out onto the field?”

“I’m better with knives.”

“I would hope so,” Krem snorts. “I haven’t seen anyone that bad with a sword since we had to train a group of Orlesian farmers to hunt spiders.”

Cole hums. Takes another swing. Glances the dummy with the flat of it.

“Why aren’t you using them then? The knives I mean.”

“The Commander wants me to be trained in his army. They don’t trust me with weapons they can’t see. It makes them worried. I don’t want them to be worried. Not because of me.”

“What? you some kind of assassin?”

“Some kind of one,” Cole agrees.

Krem goes silent. Both verbally and mentally. Except for the whisper of a curse in a language Cole doesn’t understand.

“Took him for a commoner who joined up on a lark. That hat’s too odd to belong to any sort of sneak thief or bard. Not a crow either, None of them would ever be caught dead with something like that,” Cole echoes as the thoughts return.

He hits the dummy again. Sword still too awkward to feel like he’s gaining any sort of mastery in it.

“Maybe an apostate mage. Some kid who didn’t get involved with the circles until they were already gone.”

“What are you doing?” Krem says.

“I’m trying to use a sword.”

“No not that.” Annoyance. What has Cole done wrong now? “The other thing.”

“I am doing a lot of things. Which one do you want to know about?”

Krem makes a wordless sound of– something. Odd enough that it makes Cole tilt his head to look at the charger. The sword falls to rest next to Cole’s foot, tip dragging in the dust. Something in his chest twinges.

“Maker, I’m just trying to make sense of the bloody kid.” Cole says.

“That.” Krem says “It’s like you’re in my head. How are you doing that?”

“I’m,” Cole starts and then stops. How to explain. If he should explain at all. Varric always says not to. Not unless he has to. Or wants to.

Krem answers the dilemma for him. “Never mind. Just stop doing it alright? I’m not the only one who must find it creepy.”

Cole shrugs. His chest makes the odd feeling again. Not pain but Cole doesn’t have a better name to match to it. He drops his gaze away from Krem. Down to the sword held listlessly in his left hand.

He really does prefer his knives.

“Who taught you how to use that?” Krem asks.

“No one.”

There’s a laugh. Bright and rueful. Running it’s way though all of Cole’s head. “Thought not. You’ve got the stance all wrong.” Krem moves forwards, until Cole can feel heat against his side and Krem has a hand over Cole’s on the hilt of the sword.

“Like this,” Krem says, manipulating Cole’s hand. Cole lets him, fascinated as he’s molded into a different shape.”And your feet need to go like this. You need to be more solid.”

Krem steps back to a safe distance. His heat still clinging to the fabric of Cole’s shirt. “Try and hit the dummy again.”

The hit lands solidly. Not good but better. Not a killing blow but enough to make an opponent think he knows what he was doing.

“That’s it.”

“It isn’t.”

“It will be.”

“Perhaps,” Cole agrees, taking another swing. Krem’s gaze feels like a weight against his back.


	2. NSFW Highschool AU PWP

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Purely self indulgent High School AU PWP that doesn’t include any worldbuilding whatsoever. Though as background Krem is Bull’s adopted son and Cole lives with Varric and Cassandra

Krem pins Cole to the floor of his bedroom. A solid weight as Cole struggles against his hold before very abruptly going still.

Cole blinks wide, blue eyes up at Krem, “You’re thinking about having sex with me,” he says.

Krem starts, and then flushes bright red, “Um.” he says.

“Hips rocking, rolling against him. Wonder what he tastes like, wonder what he’d feel like, look like. Lost in pl–”

Krem covers Cole’s mouth with the hand he isn’t using to hold Cole’s hands above his head. Maker he can feel his blush running all the way down his chest. If he wasn’t thinking about it before then he definitely is now

“Cole stooooop,”

Cole blinks up at him, and delicately sucks one of Krem’s fingers into his mouth.

Krem makes a choked noise. he’s so caught up in the sensation of hot and wet, Cole’s tongue curving obscenely around the digit, to do anything more than swear. It takes an age for his brain to come back online. For Krem to gain the presence of mind to drag his hand away and gape down at Cole.

“What was that?”

“You want to have sex with me.”

“So you–” Krem cuts off, not sure how to start that sentence let alone finish it. He runs his hand through his hair, and immediately regrets it as the edge of a spit slick finger brushes his ear. He shudders. “Cole what?”

Cole’s head tilts, “Am I doing something wrong?”

“No! No nothing wrong I just–” Krem breaks off and stares, “You’re not doing anything wrong,” he says finally. Confusing sure, but that’s Cole.

Krem himself though… he’s suddenly hyper-aware of every place he and Cole are touching. Cole’s slim hips bracketed by Krem’s legs, his hands up by his head. He looks almost exactly like something out of a porn video. Krem is really starting to think that wrestling for the remote was a bad idea.

There’s a heat simmering in his stomach, and the sudden, abstract thought that Cole’s tongue would feel really, really good curled up around other parts of Krem’s anatomy.

“Yes,” Cole breathes.

Krem’s face feels like it’s on fire.

“Are you sure?” he asks, and then winces. Stupid question, really stupid question made worse by the fact that Krem’s voice broke during the middle of it. Of course Cole isn’t sure he’s just reflecting of Krem’s rampant hormones and bringing them into the air for–Cole reasons. Fuck Krem is a bad influence isn’t he. A really bad influence and Cassandra is going to murder him and then bring him back to life just to kill him again–

Cole’s hips roll upwards. Krem’s line of thought derails as the line of Cole’s arousal presses up against him.

“Oh fuck.”  
“What you’re thinking is wrong.” Cole says. He twists, and Krem ends up on his back, Cole a solid weight above him. It’s not exactly a new thing. Coles’ always been a slippery bastard during wrestling, it’s one of the reasons it’s so fun. Right now fun is not the word that Krem would use. Fucking hot would be the more accurate phrase for what set of emotions Cole’s just ignited in Krem’s gut.

“You’re thinking very loudly,” Cole informs him. He’s pressed almost flush against Krem. Mouth hot against Krem’s neck, hard against Krem’s thigh. He’s making tiny, almost unnoticeable rocking motions, leg pressing up against where Krem’s hot and aching for him. “Tell me what you want, there’s too much for me to see.”

“Fuck me,” Krem says, more an expletive than anything else. A whimper as his eyes close and he tries to make sense of what the fuck is going on.

Cole’s fingers–fuck his fingers–skitter down Krem until they’re at the button on his jeans, “Okay.”

* * *

And then Krem wakes up to the beeping of a very insistent alarm. He’s hard and wet and mortifyingly embarrassed. He groans and shoves a hand between his legs and tries very hard not to think about Cole’s long, talented fingers, or his voice in Krem’s ears as he gets himself off. It doesn’t work, it really doesn’t work.

It is practically the best orgasm of Krem’s life, and he moans Cole’s name into his pillow when he comes.


	3. Krem knits a hat for Cole

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This includes transgirl!Cole. Also my headcanon that when Krem is stressed he sews/knits things.  
> Set in a universe where sometime after the events of Inquisition/Trespasser Cole became part of the Chargers for a while. Possibly. Honestly it’s verging on a weird AU worldstate. I have no idea how it would fit into the events of the game really.

Krem would like the record to show that he is not making this hat because he’s ignoring his feelings. He’s making it because it’s getting colder now that they’re heading into the mountains and Cole’s rake thin. She needs all the help she can get with staying warm. Krem’s just helping by struggling with some thick wool he’d picked up a few villages ago. It’s brown, and so soft as to be unbelievable. It’s a fucking pain to knit with, Krem is finding.

Fine. He needs the distraction anyways. Anything to stop Krem from thinking about the empty bedroll on the other side of the tent. Anything to stop Krem from thinking about where the owner of that bedroll is right now.

The hat’s a simple thing, or will be when it’s finished. Krem’s not exactly the best knitter at things like this, but he knows enough to make something that’ll go over Cole’s ears when it starts to frost. He’s thinking about putting flowers around the edge of it. Maybe in blue, or white. If he can be bothered fighting with the needles for that long.

He sneaks a glance at the empty bedroll, and swallows. Right, he’s trying to ignore that.

The bedroll belongs to Cole. She shares a tent with Krem because he’s apparently the best fit. As far as Krem can work out that means that Bull is a busy body who can’t keep his horns out of Krem’s business. Talking about Bull’s horns, if it hadn’t been for them Krem wouldn’t even be in this mess to begin with.

It’s not a mess. Nothing bad is happening. Krem’s delicate feelings are not being hurt–fuck.

Krem pulls out the last row of stitches, all of them horribly out of alignment with the rest of the hat thanks to him holding them with too much tension.

Okay so maybe his feelings are just a little hurt. It’s dumb. It’s really dumb and Krem wishes he didn’t feel like this because he doesn’t even deserve an echo of the hurt he’s feeling because Cole is— Cole is…

This hat’s never going to get made if Krem keeps having to redo his stitches. Maker, it’s a wonder his needles haven’t bent with how hard he’s holding them.

They’d stopped off in some town on the outskirts of Val Royeux. Not near enough to make Skinner twitchy about shems, but close enough that some of the others could go visit some of the seedier places.

Some of the others apparently including Cole.

She’d wandered off with Bull’s arm around her shoulders, the great grey lug laughing about meeting up with a friend of theirs at Le Chabanais. A place that Krem has never managed to pronounce the name of correctly, and knows for a fact is a brothel.

Bull is taking Cole to a brothel. To meet with someone that they both know. And okay Krem knows he’s kinda of being dramatic here by jumping to the conclusion of wild threesomes but come on

…He’s ruined the hat again.

New plan. Get to the end of this row, put the hat away for some other day and find something less fiddly to work on. He huffs, rolling his eyes. The fucking hat isn’t even that fiddly. It should be second nature for him to get through it but apparently he’s useless at everything today.

He knows he’s not exactly the most handsome around here. What with his too soft jaw, his too sharp nose. The way he generally isn’t anywhere near suave enough to get anyone to look at him twice. Especially not when he’s standing next to the paragon of sexy that is Bull.

At least that’s what Krem’s been told about Bull. He doesn’t really see it himself.

He’s always been more interested in angular hips, wide eyes and long legs and– Krem scowls, realising abruptly that he’s almost mentally undressing Cole in his imagination. Which. No. It’s his own damn fault for not saying anything over the past few months they’ve been sharing a tent but he’s shy. Shy and bad at feelings and just generally useless at this whole entire thing.

He’s happy that Cole’s getting fun with someone. Even if it isn’t him.

The mess of ruined stitches that are meant to make up the hat stare at Krem accusingly.

Yeah he knows he’s bullshitting.

Which means that when Cole gets back she’ll know about it. Krem grimaces. He starts with the hat again.

His name is Cremisius Aclassi. He is Bull’s second in Command in the Chargers. Sometimes he makes presents for his friends. And for girls he likes but that’s neither here nor there. Right now he’s making a hat for Cole because he worries about that girl catching a cold. Not all weather agrees with the wide brimmed sunhat that she usually wanders around in.

By the time Cole gets back to the tent he’s going to have this hat finished. With flowers. And then he’s going to hand it off and forget about his stupid feelings again.

Right.

Now he just has to stop fucking up the counting.


	4. Krem knits a hat for Cole 2/2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> what is cole's reaction to the knitted hat (and krem's emotions when she gets back?)  
> \- ANONYMOUS  
> By any chance are Bull and Cole visiting the prostitute Cole helped instead of slept with? And if yes, you have to do a follow-up where jealous Krem realizes the mistake and has a head-desk moment. I giggled all the way through reading this, picturing that reunion. Comment by RAlouette

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Contains transgirl!Cole. Also my monorails headcanon that Krem is partially deaf.

It’s morning when everyone gets back to camp. Krem finds this out when Cole ducks her head through the opening of the tent; angular body haloed in a burst of early morning sunlight.

Krem blinks blearily at her, and for a moment all he can think is ‘oh maker I’m so fucked’. Then he remembers where she’s just been and flushes, ducking his head down to the mess of wool that isn’t near good enough to be called a hat.

“Hi,” he says to it. “You have a good time?” He tries not to let the bitterness in his stomach show in the words. He’s sure he doesn’t manage it.

If Cole says anything, it’s not loud enough for Krem to hear it. Especially when he can’t bear to look at her long enough to read her lips. Not when she looks gorgeous and really fucking unobtainable. Not when she’s obviously not interested in him and he shouldn’t even think about what it might be like to cradle her jaw and kiss her nose just to watch her–

“Krem!” Cole practically yells.

The shock of it makes Krem jerk backwards. He’s never heard Cole yell before, save in battle where everything gets a bit hectic and if you want to be heard at all you have to. But outside of there where it’s necessary Cole’s never–Krem hadn’t even thought that Cole could yell like that.

He looks up at her, “Yeah?”

“You weren’t listening.” Cole says. Something like hurt showing in the downward tilt of her mouth. Krem feels like a dick.

“Sorry. Tell me what you got up to then?”

He doesn’t want to know. But he can’t just look away from her now that she’s already called him out on it. There’s an ache in his chest that makes his fingers itch for knitting needles. Or a spare bit of fabric he can worry into a quilt. (He’s crap at quilts. Even Bull doesn’t go near his quilts.)

“You’re upset with me.” Cole says.

“No!” Krem says frantically, “not at all, where would you get that idea from?”

Cole frowns at him, “I can see it,” She says. And she does that little walk where her hips start just a fraction before her feet do. The one that always makes Krem think of cats prowling around their prey. Honestly he finds it hot, especially when he’s looking at her from behind when she’s doing it during training.

It’s just as hot when he’s the target. His throat feels very dry.

He’s not meant to think things like this she’s not interested in him she’s made that totally clear why does he keep thinking about what it would be like— No. Krem shudders with the effort to throw that thought out of his head before it gets any further.

He can’t think things like this. Somehow no matter how many times he tells himself that, his treacherous thoughts never seem to listen.

“I’m not upset,” Krem tries.

“Please don’t lie. Why would you lie to me?” She’s inside the tent proper now.

“I’m not lying either. I just–”

His voice abruptly stops working as she sits on his lap. Legs curled on either side of her.

“Couldn’t sleep, dreams flitting and floating, her lips, her eyes, her hands. Maker please. Wandering, wondering, a bed with a faceless figure and her and why not me–”

“Cole stop,” Krem says, eyes clenched shut to stop the barrage of exactly what he’s been thinking all night long. His hands have closed into fists around the wool. And all the places where their bodies are touching feels red hot. “C’mon you said that you weren’t meant to do that anymore.”

“It’s only us here,” She says when he’s looking at her again. “It’s not a spoiler when everyone already knows what it is.”

“It’s still–” Krem grimaces, searching for a word, “Fucking weird,” he settles on, “so don’t okay?”

“…Alright.” Cole says, “Please tell me why you’re upset at me.”

Krem opens his mouth to deny it again.

“I can see the hurt. Tangled here,” she places a hand on her chest, above her heart, “And running down your toes and buzzing around your head. What’s wrong? What did I do?”

“Can’t you just pick it out of my head?” Krem says, a little more harshly than he’d meant to. “No never mind that was–” his head tilts back, as he curses silently, “a bad idea. Can I just–”

“You were happy before Bull took me to visit Margeurite.”

“Um. Yeah.” So she is going to figure it out anyway. This is what Krem gets for falling for someone with literal mind powers. He debates for half a second before figuring that he’s got nothing else to lose. Better tell a truth than let Cole pick up everything.  “I kind of have a crush on you, and you just totally rejected me without meaning to sorry,” he mumbles out in a rush. “I made you a hat though?”

“I rejected you?” Cole repeats, slowly, Her eyes narrowing and glancing to the side, like she’s trying to remember something.

“Yeah. Y’know. By, going with Bull to visit a prostitute instead of–” making out with me in the relative privacy of an almost deserted camp, he swallows behind his lips.

“Yes. Why does that mean I rejected you?”

Krem stares at her, “You went to go visit a prostitute with Bull,” he stresses.

Cole continues to look at him blankly. Really? Really does she not know what that means? No–Krem remembers a few months back the whole talk on cheating and how most people don’t share partners. Or at least if they do they make sure that everyone’s alright with that arrangement. It had been a very long, awkward talk. Afterwards they’d gotten pissed in a tavern and Krem had taught a giggly Cole the lyrics to an extremely dirty Tevinter drinking song.

She should know what it means to have sex with someone else and why that means it’s rejection. At least to him, considering how personal that talk on cheating had gotten.

“…You think I had sex with Bull?” She asks.

“Didn’t you?”

“No.” She says. And a weight lifts off Krem’s chest. Only to crash back to the ground with the realisation that Cole not sleeping with Bull doesn’t mean anything. “I didnt have sex with Margeurite either.” she continues.

“Oh.”

Krem is an idiot. He is an absolute idiot. Especially now that he remembers Margeurite, vaguely. She’s the girl that Bull set Cole up with that had ended weird because Cole is always a little weird. He hadn’t realised that they’d kept in touch. He hadn’t realised that she’d been based in Val Royeux.

In hindsight, he really should have.

“Why’d you go visit her then?” He asks, more out of curiosity now. The tightness in his stomach dissipating with every word.

“To talk. Why else would I go see her?”

Krem raises an eyebrow, tilts his head and broadcasts exactly what type of things most people go see a prostitute for. Cole’s face flushes a violent red.

“I didn’t do that,” she says.

“I gathered,” Krem smiles. He tilts forwards, maybe just a little into Cole’s personal space. “I’m an arse aren’t I?”

“Possibly.”

She’s curled a hand into his though, her long fingers threaded through his own. Her brows furrow, and then she’s carefully untangling the brown wool hat from where he’s still gripping on to it.

“You made me a hat.” She says.

“It’s not a very good one.” Krem says. he shrugs, and tries to take it back, “Honestly it’s kind of shit I was gonna make it again later when–”

She’s putting it on her head. Blonde locks suddenly obscured by brown and white and blue woolen flowers.

“It’s warm. And soft.”

“…yeah.” Maker she’s fucking perfect.

Her head ducks, and Krem hears a mumble.

“Didn’t catch that.”

“I’m not.” Cole says, a little louder but still close to the edges of Cole’s hearing.

“Aren’t what?”

“Perfect.” She looks up at him through her fringe. Large blue eyes filled with–something. Krem can’t place it. “I’m not… I hurt you and you think I’m perfect.”

“You didn’t hurt me that badly.” Krem shrugs. He reaches out to take hold of her hand again, “I’ll get over it.”

There’s a long pause. Cole’s mouth moves silently, half phrases and words that Krem can’t quite make out. Her eyes have glazed over, just a little. Enough that Krem knows she’s more outside her head than in it.

“I don’t think I want you to.” She says.

“Huh?”

“If you get over it, then you don’t want me anymore. I think. I want you to want me.” She says the last part in a rush, stumbling over the words. It takes a bit for Krem to realise what she’s saying.

“…What?” He needs to make sure. He needs to make sure that she knows what she’s saying. That she’s doing this for the right reasons, and not the ones that Krem’s terrified she’ll end up picking.

“I want you to want me. I want… Can you kiss me? I want you to kiss me.”

“…Why?” His hearts in his throat, beating double time and all he can do is hope that she’s not going to say the thing that makes all of this fall apart. That turns Krem into the worst person in the world.

“Because I want you.” Cole says. Very clearly, and firmly. She bites her lip. Eyes diverting to the side of Krem’s face. “Please kiss me.”

Krem does. Because how is he meant to say no to that. She smells like expensive perfume, and her lips are soft underneath his own. It’s exactly like his dreams and so much better.

“Cole,” he says, breathless with wonder. “Cole, maker.”

Cole smiles, crooked and beautiful. “Yes?”

Krem smiles back, and kisses her again.


	5. Massages

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Anon: Prompty thing! Krem introducing more human Cole to more physical ways of relieving discomfort. Massage, combing peoples hair, tickling, schmoop.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, warnings: My experience with massages is from the perspective of someone who does them semi-regularly to someone with severe scoliosis. I’m not sure how much that reflects the fic but it is indeed a thing.

Krem watches as Cole’s back muscles shift under his shirt in a long stretch. The kid’s arms are over his head, reaching backwards. It’s the fifth time he’s done that since the end of practice. Weird, when usually Cole doesn’t show any signs he’s exercised at all. There’s never any of the red face or puffing that characterises every other person unlucky enough to fight Bull that morning.

Usually the only way Krem knows Cole was present during practice at all is the way his clothes always seem to manage to get the worst of the dust and mud of the practice yard. It’s not the best indicator considering the fact that Cole’s clothes are a hop and a skip away from being classified as rags.

“You alright?” Krem asks after Cole holds the stretch long enough it starts to look painful.

Cole turns, still with his arms over his head. Wide blue eyes staring through Krem. “Never seen him look like he that before, hello Krem. I think I hurt my shoulder.”

“Think you have, huh,” Krem says. He reaches out to take hold of Cole’s arms, gently leading them back to his sides. “Now what makes you say that?”

“They didn’t agree when I rolled away from The Iron Bull today,” Cole says. “I can’t get them to listen when I tell them to stop complaining.”

“Landed funny?”

An agreeing nod. A hand on Krem’s wrist to lead his knuckles to somewhere on the left of Cole’s spine. “Here.”

Krem probes gently against the ribs there, reaching shoulder blade and a hard knot of muscle that is definitely not happy. The tendons jumping under his thumb as he rubs deeper. Cole gasps sharply and jerks away, twisting until he can look at Krem with betrayal.

“Your thoughts said you wanted to help. Not make it worse.”

“I’m not making it worse,” Krem’s hands raise, fingers spread out in surrender. “You really did a number on yourself. Looks like when you fell you landed sideways on it or something.”

A confused frown, a jerk of Cole’s chin to stare at the ground, “I didn’t do anything with numbers.”

Krem can’t help the little snorting laugh. “Not like that,” he says. “I can fix it but it’ll involve a lot more touching.”

Cole’s eyes gradually appear again from under the brim of his hat. “Why?”

“Cause the best way to fix something like this is to give you a massage.”

“A what?”

“A massage,” Krem repeats. His hands raise, “So I can fix the muscles that are in the wrong place with my hands. It feels nice. Well, kind of weird at first but then nice. You never had that before?”

“No,” Cole answers.

Krem hides a wince. “Right. Sorry stupid question.” Spirit. Of course no one’s fucking touched him. “Well! Now that you know what it is do you want it?”

There’s the awkward, charged silence of Cole examining Maker knows what before finally he nods slowly and looks expectantly at Krem. There’s a second silence before the coin drops.

“Room. Right,” Krem says. “Right, follow me. We can use Bull’s since he’s likely bugging Dorian or the Inquisitor right now. That okay with you?”

“That’s okay with me.”

In the short walk to Bull’s room Cole’s face starts to go even paler than usual, a grimace turning his lips thin.

“Your body really is not happy with you right now,” Krem murmurs. Another possibility occurs to him. “This the first time you hurt yourself without a barrier to soften the blow?”

A tight nod.

Krem swears. Low, under his breath. Not that it matters when Cole is able to pick out the intentions of everything he does out of his head without a second thought. He picks up the pace, hoping that the increased speed won’t make Cole any worse. Better to get the kid as horizontal as possible if he’s reacting this badly to moving.

The inner Bull that lives in Krem’s head without paying rent makes a wolf whistle. Krem glares it back into submission. It’s not like that.

Inner Bull disagrees. It points out that Krem is currently stripping Cole out of his shirt and lowering him onto a bed that has seen far more action than any other bed in the keep. Inner Bull would like it to be known to the rest of Krem’s body that he’s straddling an extremely handsome young man.

Krem makes it known that he would like to murder Inner Bull.

Beneath him Cole makes a low, breathy laugh.

“Your thoughts move in funny directions,” He explains when Krem makes a questioning sound. “I like watching the waves.”

“There aren’t any waves in my head,” Krem huffs.

“You’re thinking of the wrong waves.”

“Then what kind of waves are there?” Krem reaches down and puts pressure on side of Cole’s shoulder blade.

“The kind that–AH”

There’s a thick knot of pain twisted in Cole’s back. As big as Krem’s hand and just as hard. He winces slightly. “Sorry. This is going to hurt for a bit till it starts being better.”

Cole makes a sound akin to a frightened whimper.

“I know,” Krem says. “It’s awful. This is why usually you learn to fall before anyone puts a knife in your hand.”

“No one taught me how to fall.”

“I know.” Krem shifts to get better leverage, easing to the outside of the knot and gradually increasing the pressure of his thumb as he rubs against it. Eventually things start to go click. The muscle tension seeping away until it’s no longer jumping up against Krem’s hands. “When we get out of here and you’ve rested your arm for a bit I’ll make sure you do know. You could have broken your arm you know.”

“All I did was fall,” Cole says, with just a touch of petulance that Krem has never heard in his voice before.

“Exactly. And it hurts like a bitch right?”

Cole makes an agreeing sound. His shoulder twitches with every sweep of Krem’s thumb. The movement follows down the forearm. Krem winces internally. At least the knot is starting to untangle. What was once all the way up and down Cole’s shoulder is now a still sizable, but manageable lump near the base of his shoulder.

“Imagine if you’d fallen just a little bit more forward, till your chest was across your arms, or your ankle was twisted funny. Then it wouldn’t just be a little injury like this I was fixing, it would be something that I’d be dragging you to the medic for.”

There’s a long silence. Krem busies his thoughts in chasing down the bits of knot that are escaping down the rest of Cole’s back. Eventually, Cole says “Ow.”

“Ow,” Krem agrees. “That’s why I’m gonna teach you.”

He goes back up to the main problem. Softer now but still a nasty lump. He digs further into the corded muscle. The sounds of discomfort, that Krem is sure Cole didn’t know he was making, are starting to ease up. Until eventually, all Krem can hear is a little confused hum.

“What is it?”

“It isn’t sharp anymore,” Cole says. “The ache is still there but the needles are missing.”

“That’s what the massage is for,” Krem says.

“Thank you.”

“No problem.”

Krem sweeps his thumb one last time across the knot, now just smooth muscle, or as good as Krem is going to get. He’s done this for a lot of different people over the years but he’s still not in any way trained in it. He starts on the rest of Cole’s back. Every so often he pauses to smoothe another knot into submission, but apart from the first, Cole’s back is almost empty of them. Lucky, considering everything.

After a bit, Krem’s hands start to wander aimlessly. Smoothing up Cole’s sides, across the broad ridges of his shoulder blades, down the length of his spine. A thoughtless shift from medical massage to something done out of pleasure. Something Krem would more likely do for a very close friend, a family member, or a lover.

Just in time for Krem to have this realisation, under him Cole makes a breathy little moan. Krem’s hands freeze. Heat rises to his cheeks in sheer mortification.

“Sorry.” Krem stumbles over himself in the process of un-straddling and getting to a corner of the bed where he can stare fixedly at the wall, instead of where a very handsome, half naked man is.

The noise Cole makes when he moves is unholy. Want and sadness warped together in a soft little keen before the bed shifts: Cole sitting up as well. Unbidden, Krem’s eyes dart forwards, and one of his more unreasonable thoughts makes itself known. Krem prays to every god he knows that Cole didn’t hear it as well.

“I did.”

Crap.

“But I won’t do it if you don’t really want me to. Varric explained that not all wants are wanting to be real.”

“…Right.” Krem says.

“I try not to listen to them but sometimes they’re very loud. Especially the ones about sex. Hands wanting to touch and mouths wanting to follow the paths that they make. Thinking about what’s under clothes and whether it’s as nice as the rest…” Cole’s cheeks turn abruptly pink. “Sorry. I said I wouldn’t listen.”

“It’s okay,” Krem hears himself say as the rest of him screams. “No harm done.”

“No,” Cole says, “you fixed that.” in demonstration he pulls his arms over his head, and stretches up and back until he’s draped across Bull’s bed. Krem can’t look at him again.

“Will you do that again?” Cole asks.

“What?”

“Will you fix my back if it hurts again?”

“Sure,” Krem says to the wall. He adamantly does not think about the touch of blemished skin under the pads of his thumbs. “Whatever you want Cole.”

He is so fucked.

**Author's Note:**

> [Prompt me things!](http://bandit-writes.tumblr.com/)


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